


come back home

by drugstoreperfume



Series: i'll stop writing smut for them when they stop fucking all the time [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, the foxhole court
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Running Away, andrew tells neil how to wank, neil loves it, neil running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drugstoreperfume/pseuds/drugstoreperfume
Summary: neil tries to run. it's a mistake. however, as much as he regrets it, it turns out alright in the end.





	come back home

**Author's Note:**

> just to let u know that i dont own these characters!! they belong to nora and i love her for it. also its pretty late here and im stir crazy from the snowstorm thats been fucking england up so sorry if theres a shit ton of mistakes!!

Neil had tried to run.

Soles of his shoes slapping against the ground, Neil ran. Clutching his duffel bag so it didn’t slap against his hip, he ran. He ran and ran and ran. His shirt was see-through and soggy against his chest from the rain, and he ran. A lorry hurled the contents of a puddle at him, covering him with dirty water, and he ran. He ran, trying to convince himself he had the stamina he had before, that he would be able to tolerate what he had before - the swimming, the jumping, the hobbling, the bandages and bruises.

By the time he’s stopped in a cafe, fingers curled around a black coffee, Neil admits to himself he can’t do it. It’s different with a gun at your back, when your legs are used to running around a pulled muscle or a sprained ankle, where your skin isn’t so soft and malleable beneath a wet shirt. He also has less money. And more _stuff_.

So he goes home.

He doesn’t want to look at his phone. He knows what he’ll see. _Neil, how the fuck could you? Neil, we’re worried about you. Neil, this isn’t the way to solve this. It’s okay to be scared of being a captain. It’s okay to be scared that your friends are leaving_ \- no, fuck, Neil is not choking up in the middle of nowhere, he is fine - _we’re here for you_ but not for long and Neil is trying not to cry. He can’t bring himself to run home but he can walk; his urge for escape has always been larger but more fleeting than his yearning for home. His joints are burning but he’s dealt with that before. His head is throbbing but it’s been worse. His shoulder is aching under the duffel, and that one is new.

Having things is scary. Being permanent is scarier.

By the time Neil had arrived back at the Tower, he and his duffel was wet and his hands were throbbing with the cold-ache in his knuckles. Still, it took him at least two minutes to text Matt to let him in - he ignored all of the messages, forcing his eyes to blur. Within ten seconds, the door was thrown open and Neil was pulled inside, arms and towels around him.

Sitting in the main room was okay. Neil had a mug of cocoa, a bean bag chair, fresh clothing, towels, and people talking softly around him. His ears thrummed and buzzed. Dan and Allison and Renee had sat around him and spoke to him, about the captaincy at first but then later about other things, like colours and flavours and smells and life. That was nice. That was okay. The hard part was climbing the stairs to Andrew’s room.

Kevin had gone to Nicky’s room, the door to which had remained shut under Dan’s orders. Andrew was sat at the desk - he turned to look at Neil, expression indiscernible. Neil swallowed his fears and headed to the bed, not saying a word. Luckily, Andrew understood, saying nothing in return. When Neil settled to sleep, Andrew came to rest beside him. There were no touches, no kisses - Neil was too raw and Andrew probably too angry - but there was the routine, unchanged, showing that Andrew wasn’t going anywhere. That consistency, that rock, was stable enough for Neil to hold on to as he drifted to sleep.

 

When Neil woke up, later than usual due to being allowed to miss morning practice, he tried his very best to stay still. Staring up at his roof, Neil tried to recollect why he wanted to run last night and came up empty. Embarrassed, Neil realised that would probably have been his reaction if he’d stopped and thought about it last night. He probably wouldn’t have tried to run at all if he’d just sat himself down and really thought about it. He could have asked Dan for help. Well, Neil’s attempt to run did educate him on how changed he’d become. He was no longer able to run like he used to run, no longer strong enough (or reckless enough) to go the distances he once would, and the thought frightened him less than he thought it would. It was a weighty concept, being large and present enough that he couldn’t run, but it made him feel lighter all the same. He’d settled down roots not like an anchor but like a tree.

Neil turned to look at Andrew slowly and was jolted by the dark eyes that met him, open and unblinking. Front-lit by the window behind Neil, Andrew looked golden, like an angry God. Despite the sharp lines of his jaw and raised shoulders, Neil couldn’t bring himself to be scared. The sight and smell of Andrew was warm.

“You ran last night,” said Andrew, voice low in his chest.

Neil nodded.

“Why did you do that?” asked Andrew.

Not wanting to beat around the bush, Neil replied, “Because I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“The captaincy.”

“You could have spoken to Dan about that.”

“I could have,” Neil said, “you’re right.”

“There’s more,” said Andrew.

Neil nodded. “I was scared of losing Allison and Renee.”

“You could have spoken to Allison and Renee about that.” Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Neil was trying not to smile now, mostly at how ridiculous his thoughts had been. “I could have done.”

“Is there more?”

Neil nodded.

“What else are you scared of, Neil Josten?” asked Andrew, reaching to cup the back of Neil’s neck.

Neil knew Andrew wouldn’t be amused, but the words burnt the back of his throat and he needed them gone before he had to face them himself. “Losing you,” he spat out like the words were aflame.

Andrew’s jaw tightened for a moment and his hand twitched, wanting to pull back, before, one by one, he relaxed his muscles back into the bed and looked at Neil. “That’s not something you have to worry about. Yes or no?”

Their lips met somewhere between their two pillows. Maybe they were kissing because it was romantic. More likely it was because Andrew didn’t want to face what he’d said. Hell, Neil didn’t want to face it either. Kissing was something they did.

Neil allowed Andrew to press him against the mattress, kissing him deeper and deeper. They were both too frayed for Andrew to pin Neil’s wrists down, but he held him one hand on his shoulder and the other in the curls nested at the top of Neil’s head and it was _enough_. Neil gasped into Andrew’s mouth as Andrew’s tongue licked against the roof of his mouth, teeth scraped against the kiss-softened bottom lip - fuck, why had Neil tried to run from his thoughts when they could melt away like this, leaving Neil molten and pliant beneath Andrew’s practised hands.

Andrew pulled away, lips swollen and glistening, to rasp, “117%, Josten.”

The only noise from Neil was his hot, open-mouthed pants before his lips were reclaimed

When Andrew ground his hips down against Neil’s, Neil couldn’t help but moan and press his lips harder against Andrew’s. He was unwilling to nudge his hips upwards for fear of scaring Andrew away, but his mouth begged to be bitten and licked, sucked and kissed. His hands, grasping helplessly onto the bed sheets, came up into the air and Neil broke away from Andrew to pant out, “W-where, Andrew -”

“Only my shoulders and up,” Andrew growled out. “I’m annoyed with you.”

Neil nodded frantically before sinking his hands into Andrew’s hair. Muffling his moans, he set his mouth to Andrew’s neck, dragging his teeth softly across the sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Andrew hissed above him, pressing his hips further against Neil’s.

Neil let out a helpless moan against Andrew’s neck, pulling his lips away to say, “Touch me, Andrew. Yes or no?”

Suddenly, Andrew pulled completely, leaving Neil alone and throbbing. Neil let out a whine, rising up onto his forearms to follow him. “Andrew?” Neil questioned, eyes unable to stop raking Andrew up and down, from his glowing face to the muscles evident beneath his shirt to the outline of his hard cock in his sweatpants.

Andrew’s eyebrow twitched as he followed Neil’s gaze. His eyes, pupils blown, glistened with amusement. “I’m still angry with you.”

“Is that a no?” asked Neil, adjusting his position to try and relieve his aching cock. Neil assessed whether or not he felt he could just ignore his hard-on if they stopped then and decided that yes, he could.

Andrew’s head cocked to the side as if in thought. “It’s a ‘touch yourself’.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Touch myself?” he repeated.

Andrew nodded. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

“I don’t, really,” said Neil. “You know that.”

“Then show me how you touch yourself when I’m watching,” said Andrew. “Yes or no?”

Neil shivered. No, he didn’t usually like touching himself, but with Andrew there… he felt exposed and embarrassed and _so_ turned on. “Yes,” Neil breathed, eyelashes fluttering. But from then, he didn’t move. Despite his cock throbbing painfully against the zipper of his jeans, he couldn’t seem to move.

Andrew sighed in mock-irritation. “Do I have to do everything around here?” he sighed before turning his blown gaze on Neil. “Pull your jeans down just enough to take your cock in your hand.”

Neil bit his lip around a whimper and rushed to do as Andrew said.

“Someone’s eager,” Andrew said with a bored expression. “There’s no need to muffle yourself, Neil. The others have gone out.”

Neil flushed red and whimpered again as he pulled his cock, super-sensitive, from his underwear.

“I said, you don’t need to muffle yourself.” Andrew reached forward to hold Neil’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes roaming his face hungrily. “Be loud.”

Neil let out his first low, rasping moan as his hand shifted against the base of his dick.

“Long, slow, full strokes for me, Neil,” said Andrew. He pulled back to watch Neil’s hand move around his cock.

Slowly, Neil’s hand began to follow Andrew’s command, moving his foreskin over the head of his cock at an agonising pace. Neil’s head fell back against the pillow as he arched into his hand, desperate to fuck up into his own grip but unwilling to defy Andrew, especially when he was looking at him _like that_.

“A-Andrew,” Neil moaned desperately, as if his name alone would be enough to ground him against the sensations. “Andrew, pl - Andrew, I need more, give me _more_.”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Andrew said. “I’m not even touching you.”

“ _Andrew_ ,” Neil whined.

“Go faster, Neil. Full strokes.”

Neil’s voice caught in his throat as his hand began to rush over his cock.  The pressure was building, building - it had never felt like this alone, never _could_ , because Neil knew it wasn’t his hand but Andrew’s gaze, Andrew’s hot breaths just glancing against his skin, that set him on fire.

“Oh, fuck, God, Andrew,” Neil’s hand grabbed at the bed sheets, seeking purchase on something. His eyes clamped shut as he succumbed to the sensations on his cock

Suddenly, there was a wet sensation on the head of his cock. Neil opened his eyes just soon enough to see Andrew tongue Neil’s slit. Shoving Neil’s hand away from his cock, Andrew bowed his head and took Neil to the hilt, nose in his pubic hair and the head of Neil’s cock constricted at the back of Andrew’s throat, and _oh fuck_.

“Oh - o-oh my _God,_ Andrew, I -” Neil’s hands scratched at Andrew’s hair and Andrew seemed to indulge in it, head bobbing enthusiastically. “Andrew, fuck!”

Andrew looked up at Neil, his brown eyes meeting Neil’s blue, and hummed around Neil’s cock.

“Andrew, I’m gonna come, oh - oh fuck,” Neil’s hips began to rock into Andrew’s mouth, fuck into that tight wet heat, and Andrew took it with a low groan. “An’rew, _ah_ -”

With a hoarse moan, Neil curled over Andrew’s head, hands cupped around his jaw, and came into his mouth.

After a few moments, Neil came back to himself, hands loosening on Andrew’s head and body falling against the mattress. His toes curled with the over-sensitivity of Andrew swallowing his come around the head of his softening cock before he was released. Crawling up the bed, Andrew gave Neil a heavy, heady stare before kissing him, allowing Neil to taste the bitter, salty flavour of his own come. Neil licked up every inch of the flavour just for the sound of Andrew moaning into his mouth.

Neil only pulled back when he heard a zipper go down. Before he could have a good look at Andrew’s cock, his mouth was reclaimed. He lapped up Andrew’s moans, biting away his gasps of breath. As his tongue re-explored the expanse of Andrew’s throat, Neil was able to glance down once or twice at Andrew’s hard cock - thick, pink, cut, fisted tightly in Andrew’s hand. Neil moaned at the sight and returned back to Andrew’s lips, needing to taste him.

“You look so good, Andrew,” Neil whispered reverently, eyes exploring Andrew’s face.

Andrew twisted round to bite and suckle at Neil’s ear. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed between kisses, the sensation sending shivers down Neil’s spine.

Neil could only tell Andrew was about to come by the one muscle in his jaw that tightened - otherwise he was silent, not even breathing as he released onto Neil’s chest. His hand shook as he held Neil’s shirt away from his come. The sigh of relief Andrew emitted after he had finished, hand releasing his abused cock, was the hottest thing Neil could ever imagine hearing. Thankfully for Neil, Andrew was happy to spend a few more moments kissing Neil before he got up.

“Clean yourself off,” Andrew said, rising.

Neil smirked before running a finger through the come on his stomach. Andrew hissed as Neil brought the finger to his mouth and made a drama of sucking it clean.

“Disgusting,” Andrew hissed.

“You don’t believe that,” Neil teased, tongue still darting out to drag along his finger.

“I believe everything I say,” Andrew said. “Don’t do that.”

“Give me something bigger to suck on and I might stop.”

A rough noise tore from Andrew’s chest as he stalked into the bathroom. Neil couldn’t hold back his amusement, biting into the tip of his finger to muffle a laugh.

“And don’t run anymore.” This Andrew meant. “Talk to Bee. Don’t run.”

Looking around the room, Neil noticed all of the things he had acquired - that were _his_. His clothes, his books, his bedsheets, his toiletries… all things he would have left behind. Lastly, Neil looked at what he could see of Andrew, a sliver of forearm, a shadow against the wall.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Neil said. He meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave me a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed, and even if u didnt still leave me a comment!! i love to hear what you think of my work. thank you for reading and i hope you liked it!!!


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